And death’s dread shadows fall?
I need not fear; with heaven so near,
Why should the night appall?
’Tis but the peaceful portal
Unto a morn immortal;
For the light that once gladdened the garden’s deep gloom,
At last shall transfigure all blight into bloom.
For over and under the soul’s sore strife
Is the blessed law of an endless life;
From the sod to the stars, and the stars to the sod,